National Poetry Month continues with a poem by a dear friend from high up on a mountain!

Sometimes, in the Fog

Sometimes on damp foggy mornings

when trees coated with hoarfrost can be seen from the porch

I fancy I hear the skirling of pipes from beyond the mountain.

And sometimes, I catch the keening of the women

whose fathers, husbands and sons are lost at sea.

And sometimes, I imagine smoke from roaring fires on the cliffs

blended with the mist that hangs above the moor.

And sometimes, when shadows are cast long,

photo credit: pixaby.com

the strangest things are carried on the wind,

And I conjure in my heart’s hollows

the whispered rhymes from my clan’s ancient bards.

© Kathleen VanDeVeere, March 2012